The way I love you, the way you are
by feathered moon wings
Summary: Oh, my dearest father, why? Why did you have to be who you were? Why did you have to act without thinking things trough? But I would not have had you any differently... That is the way I love you adar and I would not change it for the world. And so you fell. my father. -He was the wild Sindarin King of the Silvan folk, the father of Thrandui and a wildling of the forest at heart-


**Original title: My dearest father**

My dearest father, so strange you always seemed to your people and your king. Though Sindar you were, you walked amongst the trees like a Silvan from birth. Father dearest, do not think ill of my words! You were always so respected amongst the higher nobles; a perfect mask of stone amongst the court and a straight back as you commanded the ranks.

Oh father, but I remember seeing you, when I was no more than a child; you were barefoot in the gardens of our house and ready to rush into the forest. I remember following you once, hiding behind the trees, as you entered deeper and deeper into the woods; I never really knew if you had been aware of your little vigorous spring trailing behind you like a new born duckling.

And you were there in the grass, spread on your stomach with a hare touching your nose with its head, as you petted its fur; you blended into the greens with your silver hair and your soft blue robes, as if the forest had hatched you then and there.

Oh my dearest father, what a sight you were! You had me frozen on the spot, for though all elves have great love for the trees and every form of life, I had never in my life seen anyone so in tune with the land.

You caught me then, I remember. "Come closer, Thranduil. It is alright my child." You said with a kind smile. With hesitant steps I obliged, as you sat up with the furry beast in your arms; in the corner of my eye I saw the woodland creatures creeping closer, just as hesitant as I. But not hesitant of you, my father, not you, but from the newcomer they had never before seen.

"What is my precious spring doing so far from home?" You asked "Have you come to spy on your father, child? Perhaps you can be a spy for Thingol when you become a grown elf." You jested, not unkindly.

Placing the hare in your lap, you took my little hands in your pale ones and looked lovingly into my eyes. "No father, I did not mean to spy on you. I just followed, though I do not know why." I said, my previous fear of being in trouble dissolved and forgotten.

"'Tis all right, lamb. Come sit with me." You said, your gray eyes gleaming with light, as you guided me to the grass and to your side.

And oh dearest father! The things you showed me that day! I had not truly known you until that long gone morning, when I finally gazed upon your true colors, and so bright they had been I was almost blinded by you, my father.

My dearest father, that is why the Silvan chose you. You understood them like no other Sindar would have ever been able; the beasts were your brothers and the earth both your mother and your father. Oh, how King Thingol wondered, if your parents had truly been Sindar or if perhaps they had found you in the forest floor and changed your hair and eyes with spells and glamour's, so your true sprite would not show. I remember him laughing at that thought and your brow furring with annoyance as your cheeks were tainted with light red.

And you became king, my father; king of the Silvan folk. You were one with them and they loved you just as one does a blood brother or more.

I remember how you always frightened mother, as they taught you to climb the tallest of trees and you would slip and lose balance from time to time when you had just began. "Husband of mine! I do not wish to become a widow with such haste! We still have ages to live and you are cutting my time short! Come down from there and behave like an _ellon_ your age, and if you shan't, at least learn how to properly fall without breaking your neck." You laughed at the time, half hanging from a branch with your silver hairs flying all around the air with twigs and leafs sticking from here and there. "My beloved, I do not wish to climb down!" You said with an enormous smile "I think the forest has poisoned my blood and I fear there is nothing left of my Sindar ascendance but my looks!" I hid a giggle in the skirts of my nanny as the folk of the forest cheered at their king's confession. Mother smiled and you sent her a kiss.

It was a beautiful day until you fell, as mother had predicted. "You were not born in trees my husband." Still we laughed at your misfortune and you with us.

Oh, my dearest father! I wish to weep just thinking of you. My heart breaks and my eyes sting and I would rather stop this ramblings of mine. But I will go onwards, for I love you, my beautiful father. Oropher… please know that your son loves you dearly.

Oh, I am crying now. I dare not let anyone see me like this.

Father, I remember you cradling me at night beside the window and under the moonlit sky, your voice soft and sweet, lulling me to sleep. The ghost of a kiss on my forehead as I fell into far away stars and dreams.

And I did notice, father, your pronounced stubbornness and your unpredictable rashness; like a storm after a morning where there was nothing but the shining sun, simply unexpected. I wonder sometimes, if I would rather you not had that wilderness within you, that same wilderness that made you Silvan and lord of your people, that same wilderness that made you rash and unpredictable. Would I have not rather had you as a sensible Sindar noble? All poised and consoled with a stony mask, as you watch over your troops. Would I have rather had you like that? Loving, but cold. Stern and detached from strong emotions. Perhaps if you were not so wild you would be alive right now. Perhaps if you had been not so in tune with the forest and the land I could still have you within arm's reach.

Oh, my dearest father, why? Why did you have to be who you were? Why did you have to act without thinking things trough? But I would not have had you any differently, never in all the eons that I still have to live, not for all the light of the stars. That is the way I love you _adar_ and I would not change it for the world.

Why do my eyes refuse to obey me? I cannot shed tears right now! I shan't! I shan't! I do not want to cry right here, right now, not for you, my beautiful father.

But you were grieving for my mother and you did not really think. At the time you were bolder than ever and you did not wish for anyone to tame you, not even the High King Gil-Galad, who had taken care of me for more than ten cycles of spring at your request; those were hard years, I remember, a hard choice for you, but one very wise. You would not be tamed and you would do as you pleased. And charge you did and so you fell.

And the world did not stop as they priced you before me; time ran and left you behind my dearest father. I think in the end, you were just happy to leave the plains of Arda, now you could forever be with your beloved; at least I think those were your thoughts until you saw me. You saw me, just as bloody as you, and you were not so happy for I remember you said "I will leave you all alone, that was not my intent, lamb." You could hardly get the words out, you were choking on your blood and I did not know, if you would die from your wounds or from drowning then and there. But you _would_ die, of that I was certain.

I did not say a thing, for I did not know what to say. I just sat there and silently cried, while I held your cooling hand.

"I am so sorry, my spring, I really did not mean to leave all this ruin and desolation upon your young shoulders. Forgive me, my son! I truly am sorry!" You coughed again and my hands were tainted with your blood.

"There is nothing to forgive, father." I softly whispered to your ear "Shush, now. Do not speak." I wanted to wail and cry and scream, but I did not. What use would you have had of a broken son? No, my father, you needed certainty, you needed me in a way that would ease your passing and give you comfort. "Calm down, _adar_." I whispered "Close your eyes… look at the stars." And you did, father, you closed your eyes, still struggling to breathe.

"They are beautiful, lamb." You said with a surprisingly clear voice "Can you see them?"

"Yes father, they really are beautiful." And my voice had finally broken, just there at the end with a tiny sob. But I was not closing my eyes and looking at an imaginary sky, for the only silver star I needed was there by my side, bloody and dirty with mud, but non the less bright.

"Thranduil?"

"Hmm?"

The hand I had placed over your chest stopped moving, the one that held your hand was still gripping it tightly. You breathed no more, but there stayed upon your lips a faint smile, for you had seen the stars upon you death bed. Just then did I scream and my heart out. I remember the battle clearly, but in my mind's eye, I remembered your smile clearer. The war was won, but so much was lost.

As I sat for the first time as king on your throne, my mind had flown far away from the people and the land. In my mind I saw you, standing at the edge of the forest just outside the palace; you held a hare in your arms, a brownish little thing with big ears and large whiskers. You looked up to me and smiled "Are you spying on me again, lamb?" Through the trees fell the evening light upon your silver hair and you shone with a light of your own. You were almost blinding, father.

Oh, father dearest, why? **Why?**

"_Adar_? My king?" I look up and I am now back in the present, the color in my throne room somehow duller than the colors of my memories.

"Are you hurt, _adar_? You are crying, is everything all right?" The face of Legolas if full of concern and I can see he is desperate to know what ails me. He has climbed up the stairs to my antlered chair and he now sits at my feet with his hands holding one of mine.

"'Tis nothing, my son." I smile shakily, my cheeks are wet and I cannot seem to stop crying "I am all right." I can see he does not believe me, but instead of arguing, he rests his head beside my knee and strokes my hand with his thumb.

"I am here, if ever you should need me, _adar_." He says.

**Oh, my dearest father! **Oh, how much you would have loved my son.

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**Translations:**

Adar: Father

Ellon: Male elf

**Other concepts:**

Arda: Earth as elves call it.

Sindar: Gray elves, that never reached the other end of the sea. Called like that perhaps because they were not elves of light as the had not been to valinor.

Silvan: Wood-elves, familiar to the elves that never joined the Great Journey. Somehow less wise than other elves.

**Abril: I made myself sad ): fuck life -.- I think this came out of me because of an image on Tumbler and something I was reading, and though I don't remember what I was reading I DO remember the fanart.**

**Here it is:**

** pk-buttcheeks . tumblr post/115682370580/a-very-late-commission-for-oropherrrrr-thank-u-for**

**Remember the link has spaces!**

**Thanks again to Mondhase for being my beta and helping me with the new title, I had one too many 'father' in my titles :D**


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